


Blind date

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, Misunderstanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 03:21:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21421339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: When Jaime and Brienne discover they are each other's blind date, an awkward situation ensues.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 15
Kudos: 184





	Blind date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ro_Nordmann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro_Nordmann/gifts).

> Happy Birthday, Ro. Hope I'm on time with this.  
Have a great day and a fantastic life!

“Damn!” Brienne cursed under her breath when the suspense lifted, revealing the identity of the man who’d been masquerading under the alias _ Oathkeeper, _ her supposedly _ blind _ date for the evening.

“You!” Jaime interjected, equally stunned when he saw her amble across the room towards him. “You’re _ Evenstar _?” he asked, scanning her from top to toe, perhaps, finding it hard to comprehend that a plain personality like her could come up with an exotic nickname like this.

“Don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t aware of your identity_ , _ either,” she retorted, the detailed scrutiny his eyes were subjecting her to causing her insides to curl up into a ball. “Had I known--”

“--you’d never have come here,” he supplied with a sigh, his blatantly visible disappointment on knowing it was her bothering her more than she’d expected it to.

“Would you have agreed to meet me if you had found out in advance?” she demanded, irked that she couldn’t meet his lofty standards, her feelings for the handsome Lannister adding to the helpless resignation that he’d never date a plain woman like her.

A slight tilt of his head, and no more, it was, but it conveyed his agreement. _ Of course you wouldn’t, _ she almost nipped her tongue when the obvious just struck her, _ why would you even bother considering someone like me? _Smothering her rising discontent, she decided to put a stop to this fiasco by bringing this strange meeting to a premature end. “Bye, Jaime, I’ll see you on Monday--”

“Hold on. Are you going to walk out on me on our first date?” he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Ignoring his expression of mock-pain, and more than that, the warmth rushing up her neck, she said, “This isn’t a date--”

“Sit down, wench,” he insisted, then walked around the table to pull out a chair for her. “Now that we’ve come all the way, why don’t we enjoy a good meal and de-stress for the next two hours?”

An accidental date with Jaime could be many things, but _ de stressing _wasn’t exactly the way it would go, in her opinion, at least. But on the other hand, it didn’t sound like a bad idea. She admired her handsome colleague, and a couple of hours with him, joking and chatting and forgetting work and other troubles, wouldn’t exactly be walking on thorns. “Fine,” she agreed, then sank into the chair.

Silence, awkward and agonizing, kept them company instead of the usual flurry of words that normally bounced back and forth between them with zero effort. The sudden drought of topics for a casual conversation left her stumped, and often she found herself sneaking stealthy glances at the exit.

“Shall we order?” he suggested, as if he’d sensed her discomfort, then handed her a menu. Finding this a better alternative to engaging in the usual war of words that was their favourite pastime, she began skimming through it, having neither hunger nor the inclination to sustain this so-called romantic evening. Every few seconds, she looked up, only to find him glancing at her, his appraising eyes making her wish she’d worn something more conservative instead of the sapphire blue gown with a neckline so deep that someone could get lost in it.

“Look who’s here,” drawled a familiar voice, and before either of them could respond, Bronn swooped down at their table, smirking, his arms smugly folded to his chest, his eyes shredding her into a thousand embarrassed pieces. A million thoughts, she could sense, cooking in his head, the evil smile only a mild window to the multitude of visions the man’s filthy mind had the capability to conjure. “I knew something was brewing between you two,” he went on, as if they’d broken the law, “though I always thought you’d be--” he paused to wink at Jaime for effect “--locked in a room, fucking the hell out of each other until the wee hours of the morning instead of wasting your time at dinner.”

“This isn’t what you’re thinking it is,” Jaime mumbled in defense, his neck and patches of his face an adorable crimson, “it’s--”

“Oh, you have no idea what I’m thinking right now, Lannister,” said Bronn, the suggestive lilt in his tone and his widening grin reducing Brienne to a gradually weakening bundle of nerves. Come Monday, she’d have to face the gang and all the teasing this was going to result in. What would she do? Where was she supposed to run away and hide her face?

_ If only Bronn’s words came true, _ she began thinking, her mind wandering off in a totally different track. _ If only Jaime felt differently, if only he felt something for me, _a part of her yearned, but sadly, he would never breach the invisible barrier they’d erected between them, the unspoken boundary neither of them would ever step across would remain intact, the faint line separating friendship from a lot more it could blossom into that, would forever remain unerased. 

“It was a mistake,” Jaime persisted with his reasoning. 

His valiant attempt at an explanation and denial, instead of pacifying her that this would soon pass, led to a strangely disturbing emptiness, particularly the word _ mistake _which tugged at her heart, the assertion in his tone telling her that this was a void nearly impossible to fill. “She and I, we’re not--”

Bronn didn’t let him speak again. “Carry on, I’ll leave you two lovers to--”

“--we’re not lovers,” Jaime objected, his voice up by a notch along with the irritation he’d been trying to suppress. “We--” he began, but their intruder had gone, leaving them alone to face the aftermath of his accusation.

Jaime turned to her, running his fingers through his hair. “Brienne--”

“I’m leaving,” she decided, the whole exchange leaving her with a throbbing headache, and without even waiting for a response, she grabbed her purse and fled away, wanting to rush out of there as fast as her legs could carry her, hoping she wouldn’t run into Bronn or anyone else from work again.

So absorbed in her own world she was, that she wasn’t even watching where she was going. “Sorry,” she mumbled, when she bumped into someone at the exit without bothering to check who it was. “I was in a hurry--”

“Brienne?” 

Her heart slowed down for a second, Sansa’s surprised voice making her want to burrow a hole in the ground and hide herself for eternity.

“You’re here with someone obviously,” her ever-nosy friend poked her nose, suspiciously scanning the surroundings. “You sneaky girl,” she mock-scolded, a grin spreading across her face, a naughty gleam in her eyes accompanying it, “you refused when we asked you to join us for dinner, but here you are, on a secret date with--” she glanced around again, searching “--_ who _, exactly?”

Brienne racked her brain for an excuse to put the pesky girl off, but Jaime ruined it all, loudly calling out from behind her, “Wench, you can’t just call off our date and escape without--” As soon as he saw Sansa, he froze, and so did his tongue, his ability to throw out a response for everything failing him when it mattered the most.

“You!” Sansa exclaimed, her eyes wide as saucers, “and you,” she added, pointing her forefinger at Brienne. “Well, I never--”

“I knew it,” chimed in Margaery, close on Sansa’s heel, sporting a grin no less evil than Bronn’s. “Have known it for ages. For all I know, it began months ago--”

“Sorry,” Jaime coughed, “_ what _ began months ago?”

“Your affair,” Margaery clarified, her eyes twinking. “I knew it when you sneaked into her room at that resort, when you--”

“That was another freak accident,” Jaime explained, his tone low and embarrassed, and Brienne was forced to recall the fateful moment when he’d entered her bath in a state she’d forever remember. “The room numbers were mixed up. I thought it was mine.”

“Excuses aren’t going to help anymore, Jaime,” sang Margaery, “especially when you’ve been caught red handed tonight--”

“That’s enough,” snapped Brienne, her headache rising to the level of unbearable, “I’m leaving. I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

Flagging down a taxi, she hopped in gratefully and sped away, craving some much-needed respite from the chaotic evening she’d been through.

+++++

A glass of wine couldn’t help, nor was she able to find comfort in music, every distraction she tried to resort to taking her back after a while to the unpleasant evening she’d inflicted upon herself. An attempt to call it a night didn’t do much either, the blank ceiling above and the dark walls surrounding her multiplying her gloom instead of soothing away her heartache.

A _ mistake _, he’d keep telling everyone, it was, and she kept mulling over it, his words and his face refusing to vacate her head. His hasty retreat to a denial, his regret at being spotted with her, his discomfort when accused of having an affair with her - all of it made her feel worse than the delicate issue of mistaken identity, the fact that she had no right to crave a man far better looking than her hitting her on the head, loudly and clearly for her to remember it forever.

_ I have to get over him, _ she told herself, injecting into her head the confidence and all the resolve she could gather, _ and keep my interactions with him at purely a professional level and not-- _

The untimely chime of the doorbell jarred into her late-night musings, and whilst she wasn’t inclined to entertain anyone right now, whoever it was, would most certainly be a welcome intrusion into her mind which was now a complicated and confused labyrinth of dark and depressing thoughts. 

Her relief, however, was short-lived when she opened the door, for it was someone she least expected, the very person she had sworn to avoid. 

“Why are you here?” she coldly demanded, her intent, to ward him off as quickly as she could.

“To talk to you,” he answered in the same tone, pushing past her without waiting to be asked in.

“Anything unimportant and other than work can wait,” she promptly postponed, worried that his presence might agitate her further, “I’m tired, I have a headache--”

“You’re lying,” he pounced, his eyes flaring up to match his blistering tone. “You just stormed out of there to get away from me.”

Refusing to be intimidated, she hit him back with a curt, “Even if I did, it’s none of your business.”

“You shut me out without an explanation,” he fumed, kicking the door shut, “and _that_ makes it my fucking business.”

“You called our _ date _ a bloody mistake,” she shouted, his unkind dismissal of it still haunting her, tormenting her.

“Because _ you _ regretted being there in the first place,” he parried her verbal onslaught. Squinting, he drew closer, his fiery gaze penetrating hers. “You’d rather have wished it to be pretty boy Renly instead of me.”

At this, all she could do was stare at him, unable to believe him dumb enough to make such a ridiculous assumption. Granted, she had once fancied Renly, but that was a thing of the past, left behind soon after Jaime had wedged himself firmly into her life and her heart--

“I didn’t regret meeting you,” she answered part of his suspicion, her overwhelming emotions driving her to the edge, forcing her to swallow the rest of her reply. “You were the disappointed one.”

“That was because I thought you were in love with Renly--”

“I’m not,” she cut short his incorrect inference, “I--”

“Am I that bad a prospect for a date, wench?” he seethed, barely listening to her. “You found the idea of spending a Friday evening with me so appalling that you just--”

“I never said any of that,” she countered, raising her voice to make herself heard. “Bronn’s allegation left me unnerved, his indecent suggestion, his--”

With another quick stride he had her cornered to the wall, his voice unusually gentle, the pain in it crying out to her when he softly repeated, “_ Indecent? _ Do you find the thought of getting intimate with me that disgusting, Brienne?”

“Gods, no!” she immediately addressed his misunderstanding. “On the contrary, I—“ Blushing profusely, she pulled back her words, unable to bring herself to express her desires.

He relaxed, the stiffness in him easing out into a more comfortable posture. “What?” he pressed, the soft depth of his voice drilling into every inch of her. 

“Nothing,” she dismissed, not wanting to make a fool of herself with a silly confession. “I wish all this had never happened,” she hastily added, ignoring his urge to find out everything.

“Why?”

_ Damn! _ That voice again. It did unmentionable things to her, made her _ want him _ to do unmentionable things to her.

“You know why,” she said, struggling to keep her composure. _ I don’t have the strength to handle the pain of unrequited love, _she meant to say, but her nerves abandoning her, she resorted to a reasonable, “I don’t want to be the subject of office gossip,” which was just one part of the truth. “I don’t want them to spread false stories about us, I don’t want everyone to run away with the stupid notion that you’re in love with me.”

He exhaled deeply, his breath kissing her face, the warmth in it seeping into her skin. “Stupid notion, hmm?” he hummed, his tone, his eyes, and the way his fingers staked a claim to her face suggesting that she had, perhaps, been wrong in deciphering him. “Who the hell told you that?”

Hope, after months of assuming he cared no more for her than a good friend would, came knocking on the door of her heart, but scared to jump into conclusions and alarmed by this sudden wave of positivity, she wanted to tread cautiously, the possibility of all this being a terrible misunderstanding hovering like a shadow over her mind. “I thought you and I--” she paused, her numb brain refusing to supply the words appropriate to fit in all she wanted to say “--that you’d find me revolting--”

His thumb outlined the scar on her lip while the rest of his fingers took to exploring the rest of her face. All hell broke loose within her, his singeing touch setting off a throbbing ache in the pit of her stomach. “I never said that, wench, did I?” 

“Don’t you lie to me,” she complained, glad that she was still coherent, his wandering hands evoking sensations in her she was afraid she wouldn't be able to withstand for long. “You’ve been criticising my looks since the day we met, you--”

“People change with time, wench,” he chipped in with sagely wisdom, “as do their likes and dislikes. Unless you’re in love with Renly--”

“Will you keep Renly out of this? I already told you it’s not him _ anymore_. It was never about him,” she cried out, unable to suppress the truth any longer.

It was as if a veil had been lifted off his face, his rugged charm open for her admiration when he smiled at her indignation. “_Anymore? _ Does this mean you--”

“I do,” she confessed, shyly meeting his shining eyes, “I have, for months, but you were with Cersei, you love her--”

“Not anymore,” he mirrored her words, cupping her face affectionately.

“What does that mean?” she asked, wanting him to divulge it all, aching to hear it all.

His lips were now so close to hers that she feared she might faint. “I think you know, Brienne,” he breathed, placing a feather-light kiss on her mouth.

“Jaime,” she gasped, the second he touched her lips, grabbing his arms in an attempt to keep herself stable, to prevent herself from dissolving into a puddle of mess at his feet, but he made things difficult for her, presenting her with another kiss before she could recover from the impact of the first.

“Let’s prove them right,” he suggested, the desperation and want in his voice sending out shock waves all through her. “Let’s do as they say, Brienne,” he went on, bringing his lips to hers again, “and finish this damned date, because I can’t sleep tonight unless I--”

“Unless you--what?” she whispered, lost in his gorgeous green eyes like a smitten teenager.

“Show you what you mean to me,” he said it at last, “not Cersei, but you, Brienne.”

Before she could reply, he pressed another kiss to her mouth, and another, and one more… he went on until she gave up, until she gave in, to him, to the charm he exuded, to what he meant to her. Their kisses were never-ending, from soft and tender to furious and hungry, and soon they began panting, their chests heaving in passion, the desire to unite more than just their lips locking them in an embrace so tight that nothing could dare come between them, not even the air they breathed.

“My _ Evenstar, _” he whispered, when they put enough distance between their mouths to breathe. “Nice name, by the way.”

She smiled, playfully ruffling his hair. “_Oathkeeper _, huh?” she wondered aloud, thinking what it could possibly signify. “How on earth did a man like you come up with such a poetic and romantic name?”

“It refers to someone who keeps his word,” he earnestly explained.

She tapped the bridge of his nose with her forefinger. “I'm not that naive, I know what it literally means--”

“It means I’ll stand by every word, every promise I make to you,” he elaborated, silencing her with his impassioned gaze, “never to let go of your hand, never to let you out of my sight--” he captured her lips again “--and my heart.”

“Nice!” she complimented, pleasantly surprised, for she'd been clueless so far that he was such a dreamy romantic. “If not anything else you’re excellent at spinning yarns,” she teased, returning his kiss, “and cooking up happily-ever-after fairy tales.”

“I mean it,” he said, in all seriousness, “and I’m ready to begin right away.”

“Do it then,” she commanded, the urgency within her taking charge, strengthening the ache in her groin. “Make love to me until the wee hours of the morning,” she said, blushing heavily as she echoed Bronn. 

Jaime pressed into her, chest to chest, hips to hips, and mouth to mouth, his arms tightly wound around her. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, wench,” he revealed, punctuating his words with scorching kisses, “since the night I barged into your bath--”

“--looking like half a god,” she finished, delving into the shared memory, lust taking over every cell in her body when she remembered his gorgeous chest, strong arms and his achingly hard erection that had risen in attention to her, just as it did now, pushing into her hips when he pinned her against the wall. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> While I managed to write the whole thing, I had someone else post this for me because I broke my thumb before I could put it up.  
All mistakes are mine, of course.  
Thank you for reading!


End file.
